


I Want You Down On Your Knees Tonight, Bring Your Dreams To Life

by LesboDyke



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: BDSM, Collection of Smut oneshots, Consensual Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, F/F, Kink Negotiation, Pet Play, Petplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 03:28:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13755354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LesboDyke/pseuds/LesboDyke
Summary: A Collection of F/F Smut Oneshots for Overwatch, check Chapter Title for Pairing/Kink





	1. Pharmercy - Dom/sub

**Author's Note:**

> Back with more sin! Enjoy it!
> 
> (Hover over the non-English words for the translations. They were gained through Google translate, so if they're wrong, please do correct me!)

Angela considered herself open minded. In fact, it was something she prided herself on. But Fareeha’s request had surprised her, she couldn’t deny it. But she hadn’t been able to get it out of her head. And Angela did love Fareeha, and it would make Fareeha really happy.

Which was why Angela found herself in the adult shop, face red as she browsed through what they might need. Her head was ready to explode, she’d never been anywhere like this before. Anything like this she’d had to order for personal use, she’d done online. But given there was a chance she’d over think and possibly talk herself out of this, Angela had chosen to shop in person just this once.

Surrounded by all the bells and whistles of the ‘adult’ world, Angela realised that what Fareeha had asked for was all beginning to sound a little tame. Tying up, a butt plug, a strap on, some lingerie. The only difficulty, for Angela, was trying to find enough of what she needed before her head exploded.

It took Angela about an hour to gather everything. She may have overshopped, she realised, as the cashier bagged up the rope, handcuffs, scarves, three different sizes of butt plugs, two vibrators and a strap on. She hadn’t been able to find any lingerie in the correct size, so she’d have to go to another store to find that. Angela had the thought that maybe she was stalling, avoiding messaging Fareeha and going back to their small home, just off base and actually going through with this.

It wasn’t that Angela was opposed. She was just nervous. That’s what she told herself as she routed through the racks of bra and panty sets. It was something new, and something that could be dangerous, if they didn’t go about it in the right way. And Angela had to get it right, otherwise Fareeha would be hurt and upset.

Angela was about to give up on finding lingerie, when she spotted the perfect matching set. And as she hurried over, trying not to hope too hard, she discovered it was in the right size. Angela breathed a sigh of relief, taking them off the rack, and getting a second pair as well, just in case, before hurrying to pay and get home. She had some setting up to do.

* * *

The scene was perfect. Angela had lain out everything she’d bought, so that Fareeha had the choice, and was wearing the new lingerie under her robe. All that was missing was her girlfriend. But according to the text she’d received (ended with many more kisses than normal), Fareeha was on her way.

Which left Angela waiting, with nothing to do. Part of her screamed for a glass of wine, just to relax her, but she knew better. Doing something new like this under the influence could end very badly. She was better off undertaking this with a clear head. So instead Angela made tea. Some herbal concoction that Ana had given her and assured her would settle nerves. Angela had to admit she was praying that it worked.

Angela had to keep reminding herself that she’d agreed to this. And it would make Fareeha happy. And really, Angela had to stop being so vanilla. It wasn’t a bad thing, but even she had to admit that some spice in their love life would be a refreshing change. But still, she was nervous. Even a little afraid. She could seriously hurt Fareeha, if it didn’t go right.

“I’m home, [ملاك](.).” Fareeha’s petname for Angela made her smile, and a warmth settled in her stomach. Maybe the tea was working. There was a heavy thunk, Fareeha’s bag, Angela assumed, and then two smaller thunks. Apparently Fareeha was still a teenager, given she always kicked her shoes off without untying them and tossed them aside like she was one.

“In the kitchen, [Liebling](.).” Angela called back, taking another sip of the tea. She listened to Fareeha as she stumbled through the house (probably tripping over other pairs of her own shoes that she’d tossed aside rather than putting them on the shoe rack that Angela had bought to go by the front door), before arriving in the kitchen, bright eyed and clearly excited. “Would you like some tea? Your mother said it would be calming. I thought it would be a good place to start, to… discuss what we’re going to do.” Angela offered, standing to snag another mug.

“You said you’d done the shopping, can… can I see what you bought?” Fareeha nodded when Angela extended the mug out, silently repeating her tea question.

“Everything’s on the bed.” Angela motioned to the stairs. “Why don’t you go and take a look and put away the things you don’t want to use in the shopping bag. Then we can have our tea, talk through everything, and get going, hmm?”

“You’re the best.” Fareeha kissed Angela’s cheek, before hurrying away up the stairs. Angela shook her head. Fareeha’s excitement was contagious and Angela suddenly didn’t feel nervous at all. There was still that twinge of fear in the back of her head that she couldn’t get rid of, telling her that this could go horribly wrong and Fareeha would be terribly hurt, but that was easy to ignore as excitement filled her system.

Fareeha seemed far more subdued when she returned downstairs, accepting the cup of tea from Angela and sitting at the kitchen table. Angela got comfortable in her seat, sipping her tea and waiting for Fareeha to talk. It was her girlfriends idea, so Angela planned on waiting until Fareeha started the conversation. She wondered how long it would take.

“So…” Not long, apparently. “I put away the rope, and the largest and smallest plug.” Fareeha started, cheeks colouring as she spoke. “And one of the vibrators. Really, Angela, we didn’t need so much.” Angela shrugged, her own face tingeing a soft pink as she focused down on her tea.

“I wanted you to have choice, it’s not like either of us know what we’re doing.” Angela pointed out, once she was certain that she’d regained some composure. Fareeha nodded, sipping her own tea and pulling a face.

“This is gross. Also you have a good point.” Fareeha reached over the table to take Angela’s hand, playing with her fingers. It was an anxious habit, that if they were close enough, Fareeha would play with Angela’s fingers instead of her own. “So… what can we do?” She asked, making momentary eye contact, before looking away again.

Angela thought it through for a moment. This was the subject she’d been avoiding all day, inside of her own head. But really, she hadn’t been able to think of anything else, no matter how hard she tried to distract herself.

“No pain.” Angela started with. That was a hard line with her. She was willing to try things to make Fareeha happy, but she didn’t want to hurt. “Anything more than a nail scratch, and I’m calling it off. That includes spanking, I don’t want any of that.”

“Okay.” Fareeha was smiling, and Angela relaxed slightly, squeezing Fareeha’s hand.

“I don’t want you to take away my sight, either. I don’t mind being gagged, but I need to be able to see.” Angela bit her lip to cut herself off, relieved to see that Fareeha was nodding, clearly making mental notes. “And my word will be needle.”

“Speaking of words… what about names?” Fareeha checked, chewing her lip. She had some fantasies about names she could call Angela, but didn’t want to upset her girlfriend.

“Uh… Anything but cunt. Or bitch.” Angela settled on. “I don’t want to feel actually insulted by you.”

“Got it.” Fareeha squeezed Angela’s hand softly, leaning across the table to kiss her girlfriend lovingly. “Ma’am or Mistress?”

“Mistress. Ma’am makes me feel like I’m at work.” Angela chuckled softly, bumping her nose against Fareeha’s. Now that they’d gotten the talking out of the way, Angela found herself excited. They were really going to do this.

“Do you actually call people Ma’am at work?” Fareeha questioned, raising an eyebrow. Angela smirked, finishing the last of her tea before she answered.

“I do. Mostly Jack.” She admitted. “He gets very flustered and attempts to politely correct me. It’s never polite.” Angela snorted, standing carefully and offering Fareeha a nervous smile. “Ready?”

“Ready.” Fareeha agreed, nearly stumbling as she got to her feet, pulling Angela towards their bedroom.

As they stepped through the door, Angela watched the change take hold of Fareeha. She could tell that it was a deliberate attempt, on Fareeha’s part, to get into character and make the start of their play distinctly less awkward. Angela was grateful for it, though the fact that Fareeha let go of her hand did make her want to pout.

“Strip.” The command made Angela jump, she hadn’t been expecting it with Fareeha’s back still to her. But still, Angela hurried to do as she was asked, pulling off the robe and setting it over the dresser, leaving her in the lingerie she’d purchased earlier. It was a deep blue, the same colour as Fareeha’s armour, the material standing out harshly against her skin. Fareeha turned to face her, and Angela could see that she’d shaken her. It didn’t last, of course, and Fareeha was quickly back in character, jerking her head towards the bed in a silent command.

Before now, Angela hadn’t really understood why Fareeha had been named Strike Commander of the Reformed Overwatch. It wasn’t that she didn’t think her girlfriend qualified, it was more a personality issue. While with strangers, Fareeha often seemed distant and untouchable, Angela knew that beneath was someone inherently likeable. And, if she was truly honest, someone who was a little bit of a shit and enjoyed her pranks far too much to be professional. But as Fareeha yet again wheeled to face her, eyes steely and determined, Angela understood Winston’s decision. If this was the person that entered a battlefield or a meeting, all would stand to attention and follow their orders.

“Did you choose these for me?” Fareeha asked, the tip of one finger slowly sliding down the strap of Angela’s bra, barely touching the skin on either side. Angela still was fighting a shiver and nodded. Fareeha tugged on the strap and let it snap back against Angela’s skin, glancing at her girlfriend anxiously, clearly worried for a second that she’d overstepped a boundary. Angela nodded, quirking a quick smile for re-assurance, and Fareeha relaxed again. “Answer me properly.” Fareeha demanded, repeating the snap of Angela’s bra strap.

“Yes, Mistress. I chose these for you.” Angela answered quickly. Fareeha let out a breath through her nose, an almost laugh, her hand moving across Angela’s collarbone and then up to cup her face, thumb stroking down over her cheek. Angela almost moved to lean into the touch, before she felt Fareeha’s thumb press against her lips.

“Suck.” Came the command. Locking eyes with Fareeha, Angela accepted the thumb into her mouth and sucked lightly. Fareeha’s expression was surprisingly blank as she watched Angela work. But Angela could see the tells that let her know Fareeha was enjoying herself. The way the muscles in her jaw clenched and her pupils dilated. A smirk curled the corner of Angela’s lips as she bobbed her head just a little. She’d had plenty of practice with this particular act, of course mostly on things far bigger than Fareeha’s thumb. Angela swirled her tongue around the tip of Fareeha’s thumb, and that seemed to be the breaking point. A firm shove to the shoulder knocked Angela down onto the bed, flat on her back.

“Was I not doing a good job, Mistress?” Angela asked, playing coy and blinking innocently up at Fareeha. That earned her a sound something akin to a growl. The noise just added fire to the pool of heat that was already gathering in Angela’s abdomen.

“Hands and knees.” Fareeha didn’t answer the question and instead barked a new order. An order that Angela quickly scrambled to obey. She didn’t know what was coming, but she trusted Fareeha to stick to her boundaries.

Fareeha located the lube, along with the butt plug that she hadn’t put away. She pulled down the back of Angela’s panties, finger lightly swiping between Angela’s cheeks. “Be a good girl, Angela. Be nice and loud for me.” Fareeha encouraged, using her free hand to squirt some lube onto the finger she had pressed against Angela’s hole. Angela nodded, already squirming just from the cold sensation of the lube.

Fareeha pressed her finger forward slowly, listening intently as Angela gasped. Her hips jerked back, trying to get more already. It had been far too long since anyone had touched Angela there, and she was realising how much she missed it.

“Needy thing.” Fareeha purred, thrusting slowly a few times, before slipping a second finger in, adding a second dribble of lube. “This is what you’ve always needed, isn’t it, hmm?” Fareeha waited, stilling her fingers inside of Angela until she got an answer.

“Y-yes Mistress.” Angela’s words were little more than a squeak as she desperately tried to rock back into Fareeha’s fingers. Fareeha grinned, beginning to thrust again and scissoring her fingers.

“That’s what I thought. You’ve always been a desperate slut who just needs someone to put her in her place.” Fareeha growled the words, beginning to pick up the pace. Angela was whimpering, burying her face into the pillow in front of her to try and stifle herself. “None of that.” Fareeha reached forward, tugging on Angela’s ponytail to lift her head. “I told you to be loud for me, Angela.”

“Sorry!” Angela said quickly, though she didn’t fight Fareeha’s grip on her hair. But she followed instructions, her whimpering increasing into moans. Fareeha slowed again, grinning as she placed a gentle kiss onto Angela’s ass.

“Time to fill you up.” Fareeha couldn’t stop the glee that filled her voice as she pulled her fingers free. Angela whined at the loss of fullness, but she didn’t actively complain. Which Fareeha had to smile about. Angela was such a good sub. Fareeha lubed up the plug, before slowly sliding it into Angela, kissing the jewel on the end once it was settled in. “Good girl, taking it all in one go.” Fareeha praised softly, listening to Angela pant.

Angela’s hips were wiggling slightly. Her ass felt full, but her clit was throbbing, desperate for  _ any _ stimulation. Fareeha stood off the bed, collecting the rest of the supplies and setting them on the chair near the bed.

“When you’re ready, roll over and lay on your back, arms crossed above your head and your legs spread.” Fareeha instructed, wanting to give Angela the time to get used to having the plug within her. And in the time it took, Fareeha stripped herself naked and even figured out how to fit the strap on. It was a hard light one, with a special fitted Harness that allowed Fareeha to feel everything as if it was a very real appendage. Watching Angela lay back, Fareeha gave an experimental tug on the toy, letting out a low moan of her own.

Once Angela was settled, Fareeha handcuffed her ankles to the bedposts, trusting Angela to say if they were too tight. And then she straddled Angela’s chest, tying her arms to the headboard with the scarves, leaving her girlfriend bound and hopeless beneath her. It took Fareeha a moment to realise her mistake. Angela’s underwear was still very much on, and now she was bound and Fareeha was unable to remove them.

“I bought a second pair,” Angela said softly, seeming to realise Fareeha’s inner turmoil. “Uh, Mistress. In case you were worried. These are available to be destroyed.” The corner of Angela’s lips quirked up into a smile. Fareeha nodded, pressing a loving kiss to Angela’s forehead, before slipping back into character and straightening up, still straddling Angela’s stomach.

“You did such a good job on my thumb,” Fareeha started, shuffling up just slightly. “Let’s see how well you do with the real thing.” It felt strange, to be treating a toy like it was a part of her. But given she could feel it, as if it was part of her, it felt right. Angela lifted her head just enough that Fareeha could slide the tip of the toy past her lips, allowing her to begin sucking.

Fareeha gripped at the headboard, biting back a groan. Maybe it was just because she was unused to the sensation, or maybe it was because she was high on power, but either way, she was certain she’d never felt this much pleasure before.

Angela had more than her share of practice with blowjobs. But this was her first time doing one without her hands and with her partner straddling her chest. But it was interesting, and the look on Fareeha’s face was worth the awkward angle of her neck. Angela wanted to pull back, to tell Fareeha to be loud. She loved hearing her girlfriend moan, and really, if anything should be pulling the noises out of Fareeha, it should be her rather expert blowjob.

Fareeha was trying to hold herself together. Her fingers of one hand wound into Angela’s hair and her hips began to stutter, rocking forward with more force. Despite wanting to close her eyes, Fareeha focused on Angela’s face, wanting to be sure that she wasn’t hurting her as she thrust.  
Able to feel her climax building, Fareeha roughly jerked back, a full body shiver racing through her and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“[اللعنة. كنت جيدة جدا في ذلك](.).” Fareeha grunted, moving off of Angela and heaving out a breath, trying to steady herself. The sound of Fareeha speaking Arabic, her voice rough, made Angela squirm. Despite the plug in her ass, Angela was desperate to feel full. She rather desperately needed Fareeha to fuck her. But she still wasn’t quite at a point where she could let go of her pride enough to beg.

Fareeha’s hands found Angela’s skin after a moment of calming, the tips of her fingers barely brushing against Angela’s stomach, watching the muscles jolt beneath the skin. Angela bit her lip, taking a second to focus on her breathing. She might be in an immensely vulnerable position, but she wasn’t going to let Fareeha know how wound up she was by whimpering at the simple feeling of a soft touch to her stomach.

Fareeha’s hands moved up over Angela’s midriff and over her ribs. She had permission to destroy Angela’s lingerie, should the mood arise, which brought a soft smirk to her face. It was nice, not to have her imagination limited by something as simple as underwear.

“You’ve got such pretty skin, Angela.” Fareeha’s tone had softened from what it had been before, but the glint in her eye still remained. That glint hadn’t changed since Fareeha was a teenger, and Angela knew that it meant trouble. However, in this situation, likely trouble that Angela would enjoy very much.

For the moment, Fareeha just pulled down the cups of Angela’s bra, dancing her fingertips around her breasts. Fareeha watched, amused, as Angela shifted beneath her. Her nipples were standing to attention already, practically begging for Fareeha to pinch them, lick them, suck them. But instead, for now, Fareeha ignored them. She wanted to see if she could make Angela beg. Angela had such a clever mouth, in wit and other terms, as Fareeha could attest. But she’d rarely seen the good Doctor as anything less than composed. The closest to flustered she’d ever seen was when they were first reunited and Fareeha had swept Angela into a crushing hug, lifting her off of her feet. But she’d been unable to tell if the redness in her face was due to being squeezed or because she was embarrassed.

Angela bit her lip, arching her chest up, hoping that the offer was enticement enough to stop Fareeha’s teasing. She still wasn’t quite at the point of begging yet, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t  _ lead _ Fareeha with subtle suggestions.

“Something you want?” Fareeha asked, smirking knowingly down at Angela. She’d noticed the chest arch, she wasn’t stupid. But Fareeha continued to just lightly trace the tips of her fingers over Angela’s breasts, deliberately avoiding the peaks. She thought that perhaps she shouldn’t be so amused at seeing Angela look so desperate beneath her, and yet the hopeful expression that Angela wore as she arched her back again was enough to override the ‘shouldn’t’ that normally would have encompassed Fareeha’s mind. “Use your words.”

“Fareeha…” Angela’s tone was one of warning, but it had no effect at all. Angela wasn’t the one in charge here, and they both knew it. Though it did take Angela a moment to remember that. She slumped slightly, her bottom lip jutting out for just a moment. “Please?” She tried hopefully, wondering if just the single word would be enough to convince Fareeha to touch her.

“Please what?” Fareeha was smirking again, fingers still dancing against smooth skin.

“[Du Wichser](.),” Angela cursed in German, before continuing. “Please touch me, Mistress.” The words came through almost gritted teeth and definitely through tightly clenched pride. Fareeha would press more later. For now, the simple plea would be enough to get Angela what she so desperately wanted. Well, maybe she’d try and get a second one from her first.

Fareeha’s fingers moved upwards, still teasing and moving slowly, just so she could see Angela squirm. It worked, of course, and Angela wriggled beneath her, chest arching again. Fareeha wasn’t going to ask for Angela to beg again, but she wanted to see if she’d get it without needing to.

“[Scheiße](.), plea-” That was good enough, and Fareeha moved with practiced speed, hands wrapping around the fullness of Angela’s breasts. Fareeha’s thumb and forefingers pinched at Angela’s stiff nipples, rolling them slowly. Angela’s hips rocked without warning, almost dislodging Fareeha’s balance.

“Sorry, sorry!” Fareeha apologised, catching the wince as her fingers pinched down as she jolted. She pressed a sweet kiss to Angela’s forehead, before pulling her hands away completely. Not because of guilt, well not entirely, but mostly because she wanted Angela the most desperate she’d ever been. It seemed to be working, as Angela let out a soft whine, rolling her hips again. This time, Fareeha was ready for it, and moved with the motion.  
“I don’t know what you’re complaining for, I gave you what you wanted.” Fareeha pointed out, unable to stop the smirk that came with Angela releasing a gust of air, another hint of a whine mixed in with the sound.

“Fa-Mistress! Please!” That was definitely a pout, presenting itself clear and obvious on Angela’s face. Fareeha hummed, fingers dancing over Angela’s collarbones now, watching the gooseflesh rise. Fareeha could see the faint lines, that once upon a time would have been scars, but had faded and almost vanished with the use of her Valkyrie suit.

“I’ve always thought you were bossy…” Fareeha started, smirking and tracing nonsense patterns over Angela’s skin, moving from mark to mark. “But I’d never known you’d be such a needy little slut, once you had someone to put you in your place.” Without warning, Fareeha pinched Angela’s nipples again, tugging just lightly. She paid careful attention to Angela’s face, the slightest hint of pain would make her back off.

“Mistress,  _ please _ !” Angela tried again, whining loudly. Fareeha smirked, rocking her hips over Angela’s abdomen.

“Please what? Use your words, Angela. I have no idea what it might be that you want.” Fareeha was smirking widely as Angela let out another whine. Fareeha continued to manipulate Angela’s breasts, waiting for her start begging properly. For a moment or two, Fareeha thought she was in for a long wait. And then Angela let out a sigh, one that Fareeha normally heard directed at Lena, when she was about to sign off on some stupid and dangerous stunt.

“Please, Mistress, I need to be fucked!”

“There’s my girl.” Fareeha praised, clambering off of Angela and kissing her forehead. She headed to Angela’s bedside table, knowing that her girlfriend had a pair of nail scissors in her drawer. It was either use those or ruin the moment by going to look for the kitchen scissors. Fareeha could hear Angela whining behind her, but choose to ignore her for a moment. Just because she could.

Locating the scissors, Fareeha turned back to Angela and snipped the panties a little each side, just enough so that she could then rip them. The look on Angela’s face was reward enough for Fareeha, blue eyes nearly entirely taken over with blown pupils.

“[Scheiße](.), Mistress please, I really need you.” Angela was begging freely now, and Fareeha could see how her folds glistened in the light of their bedroom. Unable to control herself, Fareeha spread Angela’s lower lips with two fingers and licked a firm stripe upwards, listening to the moan that elicited.

“My, such a needy slut, aren’t you?” Angela whimpered and Fareeha tapped her clit with the very tip of her finger. “I asked you a question, Angela. Answer me.”

“Y-yes. I’m a needy slut.” Angela’s cheeks were bright red, but there was no real shame holding her back anymore. She was almost entirely certain she’d never been so wet in her life. Why had she ever worried about doing this?

“Who do you belong to, slut?” Fareeha asked, kneeling between Angela’s thighs and moving to line the toy up with Angela’s core. Angela didn’t hesitate in answering this time.

“You! I belong to you, Mistress!” Fareeha smirked, rubbing the head of the toy over Angela’s slit, gathering wetness and teasing just a little. Angela’s face twisted and she looked genuinely tortured, hips bucking best they could with her arms and legs still bound to bedposts. “Please, oh please, please, [Ich brauche dich, um mich zu ficken, Herrin bitte, bitte, bitte.](.)” The loss of English did it for Fareeha and she pushed forward. Angela nearly sobbed in relief at being filled, and Fareeha let out a low groan at the feeling of Angela’s walls wrapping around the toy that felt like part of herself.

“[اللعنة، حتى الرطب](.)” Fareeha growled, English escaping her too for the moment. The motion of thrusting with her hips felt unnatural, and it took her a moment to get into a proper rhythm. Angela didn’t seem to mind. Her head was thrown back and a litany of moans and whimpers were falling from her lips.

Once she’d gotten the hang of the motion of her hips, Fareeha had little mercy on Angela’s swollen core. Even through the haze of lust, her lips quirked at her lame inner pun about mercy.

Fareeha knew Angela’s tells well, and she recognised the way her girlfriends fingers began to claw and grip at the headboard in much the same way they’d normally be pulling at her hair.

“Are you close, hmm, slut?” Fareeha’s voice was lower than she’d ever heard it, and it seemed to be having an effect on Angela, if the moan was anything to go by. Fareeha slowed her hips just a little, until she got an answer.

“Yes! [Scheiße](.), Mistress I’m so close, please can I come? Please?” More begging, and Fareeha hadn’t even needed to ask this time. She didn’t answer, not with words. But her hips picked up their pace, driving forward into Angela again and again. Fareeha’s thumb found its way between them, rubbing Angela’s clit in time with her thrusting.

Honestly, Fareeha wasn’t sure how much longer that she herself could hold on. It was taking a lot of concentration to hold back the tightening coil in her own stomach, not wanting to reach her peak before Angela.

“Come for me, Angela.” Fareeha gave the command harshly, sweat rolling down her back as she thrusted. Her muscles burned, and her own need for release was beginning to overtake her, the world outside of the feeling of Angela’s walls around the toy fuzzing and beginning to fade away.

Three ‘ah’s in quick succession, each going higher than the last, was the only warning that Fareeha got. Angela’s walls clamped down around the toy, holding her in place for a moment, before beginning to pulse, gripping and releasing over and over.

“[أوه اللعنة!](.)” Fareeha groaned, falling forward and bracing herself on her free arm. Her own hips stuttered. She pressed forward, putting the two of them as joined as they could be, before finally letting her release rock her.

As her soul returned to her body, Fareeha pushed herself upright a little more. Angela’s chest heaved as she fought to catch her breath, and she let out a quiet whimper as Fareeha carefully pulled the toy free of her.

“I love you.” Fareeha whispered, kissing Angela’s temple. She received a tired hum in lieu of answer, and chuckled. It always took Angela a moment or two to recover from an orgasm, which gave her time to clean up.

Fareeha stood, unbuckling the harness and setting it aside. She’d clean that at a later point, once she’d taken care of Angela. She was quick to undo the cuffs that bound Angela’s ankles, softly rubbing the red marks that marked her skin. Then came the scarves that bound her wrists. Angela had chosen well, as there didn’t seem to be any sign of friction burn on her wrists. Still, Fareeha rubbed them just in case.

“Turn over for me, [حبيبتى](.).” Fareeha encouraged softly, moving to help. “Let’s get that plug out.” Angela rolled slowly, and Fareeha was careful as she removed the butt plug. Though she couldn’t stop her grin at the quiet whine that Angela exhaled as the toy came free. “There we go.” Fareeha said, kissing Angela’s cheeks. “You can roll back over now, if you want to.”

With Angela’s direct needs taken care of, Fareeha carried the used toys through to their bathroom, dumping them in the sink with some warm water. They’d get a proper clean later, but the soak would hopefully make sure that nothing would get too caked on. She filled one of their rinsing glasses with water, and carried it back through, setting it on the bedside table and finally clambering into the bed next to Angela.

“I brought you a drink.” Fareeha explained, holding her arms open in invitation. It took a second for Angela to find the energy to move, but she dragged herself over and flopped happily onto Fareeha’s chest. “Once you’ve drank it, I think you could do with a bath. I might even share it with you, if you’re lucky.” Angela laughed, leaning up and kissing Fareeha softly.

“Thank you. You really did do your research, didn’t you?” Fareeha handed Angela the glass, and nodded.

“Of course. This wouldn’t have been even half as fun if you weren’t enjoying yourself. And part of you enjoying yourself is making sure that you’re okay afterwards.” Fareeha pointed out, fingers running through Angela’s sweat-dampened hair. Angela hummed, handing back the now empty glass.

“I love you. But I think I can wait on the bath for a few minutes. Laying with you like this is nice too.” Fareeha smiled, nodding and getting comfortable on the bed.

“Okay. We’ll cuddle for a few minutes, and then I’ll finish taking care of you.”

“You’re very good at that… mistress.” Angela’s own cheeky twinkle had entered her eye, watching as Fareeha’s face flushed a dark red.

“Why do I feel like I’m never going to live this down?”

“Because you’re not.”

“That’s what I thought. You’re a lot of trouble, Angela Ziegler. An awful lot of trouble.”


	2. Widowtracer - BDSM/Pet Play/Dirty Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Widowmaker and Tracer are rivals in a competition and they really show publicly that they hate each other but in private Amélie makes Tracer pay for every word. Bdsm and Tracer is a loyal pet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first Tumblr Prompt!
> 
> This was a lot of fun to write, and now that it's finished, I'mma go take a cold shower!
> 
> As per usual, all French is from Google Translate because I don't speak French. Hover over for translations, and if I'm wrong, please do let me know so I can fix it!
> 
> (Unrelated but I remain very amused that I struggle to go over 3,000 words in a chapter of something plot filled & yet both of these so far have been closer to 5,000... guess I just write long porn?)

Dancing was all that Amélie had ever been good at. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but it was the only thing she was  _ publically _ good at. But Amélie had worked hard to get where she was with her dancing. It had been a long road, given how she’d had little natural talent to begin with. But now she was considered one of the top five dancers in the world.

Annoyingly, there was one person above Amélie who rather publically lorded it in her face, every time they ended up in the same city. And given how small the European Ballet scene was, it happened a lot. And that was Lena Oxton. Lena fucking Oxton, who seemed to have some god-given talent or something, since no one ever saw her rehearse.

But Amélie knew Lena’s secret.

Her finding out had been an accident. It had been at an upscale party, celebrating the opening of Amélie’s newest Ballet. Lena had been passing through after a competition, so she’d naturally been invited. They’d been verbally sparring all evening, trading jabs about each others skill. And perhaps Amélie had drank a little more than was appropriate, but no one was watching, so the carlories didn’t count. With their latest round of insults over, Amélie had retired to the bathroom to recover her wits and calm her rage. It was irritating, how Lena was able to insult her with a smile on her face and have everyone laugh.

As Amélie was taking her deep breaths, Lena had entered the bathroom. The next few minutes would be forever burned into Amélie’s mind. Lena’s skill was put to good use as she practically pounced on Amélie, lips colliding with passion and surprising strength. It had taken Amélie a second, but she’d responded equally.

And so their games began.

“I guess I jus’ feel sorry for those who don’t have the talent, y’know? Hard work is all well an’ good but if you wanna be at the top, ya need some basic talent. That’s why I’m where I am. An’ that’s why Amélie is where she is.” Amélie sat in stony silence, waiting for the door to Lena’s hotel room to open. She had the particular clip that would be getting Lena in trouble, playing on repeat on her laptop, but other than the light from the screen, the room was in darkness.

Sometimes Amélie wondered if Lena said particularly harsh things because she knew what would be coming for her. Or was she really that callous, underneath her smiles and form. Regardless, her punishment would be much the same. Now Amélie was just waiting for Lena to return to her hotel room. She had a wonderful plan for the evening. She’d make Lena regret her words, and then see the god she claimed gave her those dancing skills.

The door clicked as it unlocked, and Amélie smirked, crossing one leg over the other. Oh, she’d been looking forward to this ever since she’d heard that Lena would be giving a TV interview about her rise to stardom.

“That’s why I’m where I am. An’ that’s why Amélie is where she is.” TV Lena explained, flipping her hand and shrugging. The sillhuoette of Lena in the doorway froze.

“Hey, Amé…” She began, but Amélie raised a hand, silencing her with ease. Again, the clip on the laptop looped. Lena reached for the light switch, but a soft ‘ahem’ from Amélie stopped that too.

“Door.” Amélie instructed, the simple word enough of an order to snap Lena into action. The door closed with a quiet click, plunging them back into near darkness.

“Amé-” Lena tried again. Amélie tutted, shaking her head and pushing herself to her feet. She moved over to Lena slowly, a fingernail lightly brushing over freckle spotted cheeks.

“Go into the bathroom. Get ready. Once you step out again, you shall not be getting a break. If you understand, go into the bathroom as ordered. If this isn’t what you want, now is the time to say.” Amélie made it clear where the boundaries were, before stepping back and sitting herself back where she’d been when Lena first entered the room. There was a moment where Amélie thought that maybe she wouldn’t get to play that night. And then Lena turned, without a word, and entered the bathroom.

Amélie had had access to Lena’s hotel room for a good few hours. Every time Lena stayed somewhere near Amélie, she’d send Amélie her room key, allowing her access whenever. It was an arrangement that suited Amélie, given how she had no desire to have Lena in her home.

Amélie had brought Lena’s collar, which was lain in the bathroom, waiting for her. There was also Amélie’s bag of equipment. With the bathroom door closed, Amélie stood and drew the curtains, flicking on the bedside lamps, bathing the room in a soft glow. It was a nice room, for the level of hotel Lena seemed to enjoy staying in.

Finally, Amélie paused the loop of Lena’s interview, setting her laptop aside. It would come back into play later in the evening, but for now it wasn’t needed. Amélie rested her bag on the chair she’d been sitting in, smirking to herself at the sight of what was inside.

Lena could hear Amélie moving around in the bedroom as she stood in the darkness of the Bathroom. Lena knew, from the moment she’d spoken those words that had been playing when she’d entered, that Amélie was going to be angry. That was part of why she came down so hard on Amélie in public. Because Lena knew that it would make Amélie come down hard on her in private.

Lena had always longed for someone to take control away from her. But with previous girlfriends, they’d been too intimidated by the strength that dancing had given her, so Lena found herself trying to fight her very nature and top the girls she wanted to sub for. With Amélie, seeing how the other dancer always gave as good as she got in their verbal sparring, Lena had barely been able to help herself. And now she had almost everything she ever wanted. If only she could get Amélie to agree to a proper relationship.

With a deep breath, Lena turned on the bathroom light. There wasn’t much in there that hadn’t been there before, but standing on the back of the sink was her collar. It was heavy leather, a deep purple that matched the dress Amélie had been wearing that night of their first kiss. And a tag, always shining silver.

_ Amélie’s Pet. _

Lena didn’t know where she’d managed to get that engraved, and she didn’t really want to ask. She didn’t want to know how many other people may know what she got up to with Amélie behind closed doors.

Lena wrapped the collar around her neck, relishing in the familiar weight and what it meant. She had no decisions to make, no one to impress or smile for. She just had to make Amélie happy. And that was something, Lena had found, she was rather skilled at. Lena’s fingers shook slightly as she unbuttoned her shirt, pulling it off and folding it, setting it on the shelf behind the sink. She knew the routine, and ‘get ready’ meant put on her collar and take off her clothes. Amélie liked to dress her in pretty ropes and showcase different parts of her. Lena loved it.

As each piece of clothing was removed, Lena felt her excitement rise. This was something she craved, and she knew Amélie always had interesting things planned. Taking a deep breath, Lena turned off the bathroom light, and moved back into the bedroom.

Amélie was sat on the edge of the bed, wrapped in a silk robe. Lena felt it safe to assume that there was nothing beneath. There rarely was, when they began to play.

“On your knees.” Amélie spat the words, and Lena instantly complied, dropping to her knees. Her hands rested on her legs, and she bowed her head just like Amélie had taught her. She could see Amélie’s feet, still wrapped in her high heels, standing and moving towards her. Amélie’s fingers found Lena’s chin, tilting her face upwards just slightly. Lena followed the silent order, and felt a thrill go through her as Amélie clipped a leash to her collar. “Do you remember your safe words? You may speak.”

“Mercy, if I need a minute. Spider, if I wanna stop completely.” Lena had never had cause to use them, but Amélie always checked that Lena remembered them.

“Good girl. And if I gag you?” Amélie checked. It was something she’d considered, stopping Lena’s irritating voice from possibly escaping.

“Shake my head an’ punch the bed.” Lena stated, eye’s focused on Amélie’s lips. Oh, how she wanted a kiss. Amélie nodded, smirking and stepping back away from Lena, sitting on the edge of the bed once more. She gave the leash a tug, and Lena moved forward obediently. That was all they needed to talk about. All boundaries had been discussed months before, and if there was anything new, Lena would have said so. So now it was time to play.

Amélie uncrossed her legs, extending her foot towards Lena. Her black heel caught the light and reflected Lena’s face back at her. “Clean it.” Lena reacted instantly, tongue moving over the material of the shoe. The first time this had happened, Lena had fought against it. She’d not been able to sit down for three days, and had learned to accept this would nearly always be the start of play. Any lingering feelings of unhappiness had vanished when she learned that Amélie kept a pair of heels that were never worn outside, just for this. So Lena licked, and she let all of her thoughts drift away, putting herself in the perfect subspace.

The fact that their feet were the things that carried them through their career, Amélie got a distinct thrill from having Lena on her knees, cleaning her shoes. It wasn’t even a sexual kink for Amélie, it was just something she did because she had the power. And Lena never  _ truly _ asked her to stop.

Once her shoe was glistening, Amélie tugged Lena’s leash, pulling her back. Amélie stood, leash held in one hand, and began to move around the hotel room, leaving Lena no choice but to follow her. And like the good pet she was, Lena followed, on her hands and knees.

They circled the bed, and with a cruel smirk, Amélie patted the bedspread. “Up you go.” She encouraged. “Show me that skill you’re so proud of.” She added on, making her message perfectly clear to Lena. She couldn’t stand to get on the bed, she had to get up from her knees. It wasn’t the most difficult thing she’d ever done, but Lena couldn’t help the flush of humiliation that coloured her cheeks. But still, she’d been given an order, and she’d follow it. It took her a moment to gauge everything she needed, before she managed to push herself in an awkward leap and scramble up onto the bed.

“Well done.” Amélie’s compliment was flat, but still Lena beamed as she kneeled on the bed, waiting for her next instruction. She didn’t have to wait long, as Amélie secured the leash to the headboard. “Bend over, [petit chien](.).” Lena’s reaction was automatic. She bent, present her ass up to the room. She heard Amélie chuckle, and felt herself flush again, but she dare not move. Cool fingers parted Lena’s cheeks, and Lena found herself wondering, not for the first time, why Amélie always felt so cold to the touch.

“Look at this tiny little hole.” Amélie cooed, and Lena fought not to wriggle away from the explorative touching. Assplay was something that they’d only recently included in their games, and Lena was still coming to terms with it. Even though she was the one who’d suggested it in the first place. “I got you a gift, [petit chien](.). When I give it to you, I expect you to say thank you.” Lena nodded, having not been given permission to speak yet. She felt the tip of Amélie’s finger pressing against her hole and bit her lip.  Just as she was about to protest, a dribble of something cold ran between her cheeks, and Lena relaxed just a little. She had nothing to be worried about.

“[Ce que je ne donnerais pas pour pouvoir baiser ce trou comme le ferait un homme](.).” Lena didn’t understand what Amélie had muttered, but the French sent a thrill through her. As did Amélie’s finger slipping inside and beginning to thrust. There wasn’t really a ‘warming up’ period, but Lena was grateful that Amélie let her adjust before adding a second finger. Despite trying to be quiet, Lena found herself whimpering into the bed-spread, and as Amélie scissored her two fingers deep in Lena’s ass, Lena couldn’t stop the weak moan.

Slowly, Amélie’s fingers pulled free. Lena protested without thinking, whining and rolling her hips back slightly, trying to follow her full feeling. A resounding ‘crack’ sounded throughout the room as Amélie brought her hand down on Lena’s right cheek.

“Bad dog.” Amélie scolded, and Lena had to question why that sent a thrill through her. “Apologise.” Amélie demanded. Lena swallowed thickly, before finding her voice.

“I’m sorry, Mistress. I didn’t mean to complain.” One of the first lessons that Amélie had taught Lena was that if she was apologising, she’d better know what she’d done, or she’d be in even deeper trouble. Sometimes, Lena ‘forgot’ because trouble could be fun. But she rather desperately wanted to know what gift Amélie had gotten for her, so she was behaving. Mostly.

Another crack, this time on Lena’s left cheek, before Amélie moved off the bed, leaving Lena alone. She wanted to twist, to try and locate Amélie within the room and find out where she was. But she hadn’t been given permission to straighten up just yet.  
The bed dipped as Amélie settled behind Lena again. Lena shivered as further Lube was applied to her ass, and she momentarily panicked that perhaps Amélie had brought one of her favourite toys to fuck her there. Lena knew she wasn’t ready for that, and her slow down safe word was ready on her lips as she felt the bulbous plastic head of _something_ pressing against her hole.

“Relax.” Amélie’s instruction was softer than any before. She could see how Lena had tensed up, clearly worried about something. “I’ve left my toys at home, this is something new. Relax.” Amélie’s soothing tone, and the gentle hand that was rubbing between Lena’s shoulder blades did help, and she worked on relaxing her muscles. She trusted Amélie. And she did have her safe words ready, so there was no harm in trying whatever it was that Amélie had gotten for her. “Good girl.” Amélie praised, pressing the toy against Lena again and slowly inserting it. At first, all Lena noticed was how different this new thing felt to Amélie’s fingers, although there was no pain. And then she noticed something else. Something fuzzy, tickling her leg.

Once the plug was firmly settled into Lena, Amélie drew her hands away, admiring her pet. “Good girl.” She praised again, patting Lena’s head with her clean hand. Amélie wasn’t an idiot, and she’d been picking up on hints from Lena for months. And knowing that Lena had no fear of using her safe words if something wasn’t right, Amélie had decided to try something new. There was just one final piece of the costume missing.

Lena felt Amélie leave the bed again, although whatever was tickling her leg remained. Amélie entered her line of sight with a headband, which Amélie placed on Lena’s head with a smirk.

“There we are. The perfect dog.” Amélie unhooked Lena’s leash from the headboard and tugged lightly. “Get down. Safely.” Lena moved off the bed carefully, before dropping back to her knees. The tickling thing was still there, and Lena realised what it was all in a rush. Amélie had given her a tail. Her cheeks darkened, and she looked up to find Amélie smirking at her. “Problem?” The question sounded sarcastic, but Lena knew she could give an honest answer if there was something wrong.

“No, Mistress.” Lena admitted. It was a shock, granted, but Lena could find nothing to complain about.

“Good. Let’s look at you.” Amélie tugged on Lena’s leash, once again leading her around the Hotel room. They came to a stop in front of the wardrobe, that featured a floor to cieling mirror. “Stand.” Lena scrambled to her feet, all of her usual grace lost as she stared at herself in the mirror. The floppy ears that rested within her hair looked real, the headband hidden within her locks. And the tail. Now that Lena was stood, it hung around her knees, the same brown as the ears. “Aren’t you a pretty girl?” Amélie was behind Lena, one hand still holding the Leash. Her other hand snaked around Lena’s stomach, short nails scratching over pale skin.

“Ye-” Lena went to answer, before a sharp tug to the Leash silenced her.

“Dogs don’t speak, Lena.” Amélie scolded. “Answer me properly.” Again Lena’s cheeks burned, and she watched the colour spread down her throat in the mirror. Swallowing what little pride she had left, Lena barked unsurely. “Much better.” Amélie was smirking, making eye contact with Lena through the mirror. Amélie’s hand drifted lower, skimming over the neatly trimmed hair that hid Lena’s sex from view, before cupping her possessively.

“No matter what you want to tell the world, you belong to me.” Amélie held Lena’s eye, as if daring her to contradict. “And no matter how much you brag that you’re better than me, I’m the one who brings you to your knees.” Lena nodded, hoping that if she was agreeable, Amélie might touch her, that she might give Lena some release from the wetness that had been gathering since she’d first walked into her hotel room. For a moment, it seemed like she was going to get her wish. Amélie’s fingers parted Lena’s lower lips, her core glistening. “[Une jolie chatte.](.)” Amélie cooed the French words, and Lena bit her lip to stop herself from begging.

Amélie’s index finger pressed against Lena’s clit, slowly rubbing it from side to side. Lena watched the movement in the mirror. The simple stimulation, coupled with the waiting, the fullness in her ass and her ability to see everything, drove Lena to the edge embarassingly quickly. Just as Lena opened her mouth to ask for permission, Amélie’s hand left her completely.

“Kneel.” Lena dropped instantly, ignoring how her knees protested and smarted. The Hotel carpet wasn’t as soft as it looked. “You don’t deserve to get off.” Another harsh tug on the leash, and Lena was yet again following Amélie. Not as far this time, just to the chair that Amélie had been sat in when Lena had first arrived. Amélie sat again, and spread her legs, confirming Lena’s earlier suspicion. She had nothing on beneath the robe. “Get to work.” Amélie ordered. “If you do a good job, I might just reward you.”

Lena crawled forward, pressing kisses to the inside of each of Amélie’s thighs. It was rare that Lena got the chance to taste her Mistress. Normally, Amélie preferred to restrain her and ride a toy she’d strapped to Lena’s hips to get her release. And while Lena did  _ love _ the view that afforded her, being between Amélie’s thighs was one of her favourite places. Lena lifted a hand to part Amélie’s folds, and winced as her head was jerked back by her collar.

“Mouth only.” Amélie instructed, and Lena internally cursed. But she shuffled forward again, leaning in and running her tongue between Amélie’s lips. Amélie hadn’t spread her legs very wide, and with the low lighting in the room already, Lena was having to figure everything out by touch alone. After a moment of fumbling, Lena’s tongue found Amélie’s clit. With a smirk of her own, Lena began to lap at it, flattening her tongue as much as possible and licking upwards. The tip of her tongue curled and just managed to flick Amélie’s clit with each pass. Lena felt the Leash drop, and one of Amélie’s hands found it’s way into Lena’s hair, gripping at the choppy locks.

Once she’d gotten herself re-acquianted with Amélie’s core, Lena began to vary what she did. Her tongue thrust inside of Amélie, nose awkwardly bumping her Mistress’ clit as she thrust the best she could. Then back to the broad licking and flicking, loving how Amélie’s legs shook each time her tongue curled. And on occasion, she’d wrap her lips around Amélie’s clit and suck, very lightly, tongue bullying the bundle of nerves.

Lena could have stayed between Amélie’s thighs for days and been perfectly happy, but she was good at what she was doing. After a few minutes, Amélie’s grip on Lena’s hair tightened till it was almost painful, and her legs clamped down, holding Lena in place as she continued to lick at Amélie’s clit. Amélie almost never made noise as she came, she simply tightened up all over and rode through her waves with a look of ecstacy. A look that Lena loved.

Slowly, Amélie unclenched and allowed Lena to pull back and catch her breath. Amélie’s limbs felt heavy, but she forced herself into a more dignified sitting position and looked down at Lena. Her face was smeared with Amélie’s juices, and Amélie couldn’t stop her smirk. Slowly, Amélie patted her lap, and Lena clambered up, getting as comfortable as she could, with her ass still plugged.

“Well done, [petit chien](.).” Amélie praised, nails scratching lightly at Lena’s scalp. Lena grinned, resting against Amélie and enjoying the moment of peace they were having. It wouldn’t last, of course. Amélie wouldn’t end play that early. But it was a nice moment, none-the-less.

Amélie stood suddenly, still holding onto Lena, carrying her as if she weighed nothing. Lena nuzzled her face into Amélie’s neck, hoping that if Amélie was happy enough, she might be allowed to cum. Normally, Lena only got one per session, while Amélie would take as many as she felt she deserved. But sometimes, Amélie was feeling charitable, and Lena got to cum a few more times.

Amélie set Lena on the bed, once again looping her leash over the headboard. Lena moved up onto her knees, trusting she’d be told if that wasn’t the position that Amélie wanted her in. Lena watched as Amélie rescued her laptop and set it up on the bedside table, before snagging something from her duffel bag.

“We’re going to play a game.” Amélie said, and Lena already knew it wasn’t a game that she was going to enjoy. But she listened. “If you manage not to cum for twenty plays of your interview, I’ll give you everything you want for the rest of the night. If you cum, play is over and I go home. Understand?” Lena swallowed thickly, but nodded. Twenty plays of her interview? It was a five minute interview, that was less than an hour. She’d held on for longer than that before, surely she could this time. “Tell me you understand, Lena.” Amélie’s voice lost some of it’s edge, and Lena sucked in a deep breath.

“I understand the game, Mistress. I want to play.” Amélie nodded, smirking again.

“After every five plays, I’ll give you a minute’s break.” She assured Lena, before pressing play on her laptop and settling behind Lena. Amélie’s hands began to explore Lena’s chest, zeroing in on sensitive spots and scraping her nails over them. Teeth found their way into Lena’s shoulder, low enough that Lena wouldn’t need a scarf, as long fingers pinching and plucked at Lena’s nipples. Lena closed her eyes, trying to think of anything but the feeling of Amélie touching her.

By the end of the first play, Lena was desperate for some attention to her clit. Amélie was using every trick she knew, every spot on Lena’s body that brought out shivers. And no matter how hard Lena tried to focus on something else, she was responding to it all. As Amélie’s hand began to drift downwards, her teeth nipped at the shell of Lena’s ear.

“If only that interviewer could see you now.” Amélie purred, nails scratching over Lena’s abdomen, feeling the strong muscles jump. “Wound up, and desperate for the touch of someone so far  _ beneath _ you.” Suddenly, Lena regretted the way she’d spoken about Amélie. She’d been trying to get in some trouble, but this might just be the death of her. She’d never mentioned her love of hearing Amélie talk, but it seemed that Amélie had figured it out anyway.

“I’m-ah!” Lena’s attempt at apology was cut off by the tip of one of Amélie’s fingers pressing against her clit. The bundle of nerves was already swollen, begging for touch.

“I wonder what your fans would say?” Amélie posed the question as if they were discussing this over tea, rather than with one of her hands between Lena’s legs, deftly manipulating her clit. “Oh, how the mighty hath fallen. Fallen into being her inferiors desperate little pet. What would you tell them?” Amélie tapped Lena’s clit, as if thinking. Lena’s hips jerked with every contact. “Would you lie? Or would you tell them what a slut you really are? Tell them about how you beg for me to  _ fuck _ you, because no one else knows how?”

“I’d tell them!” Lena exclaimed with a gasp, two of Amélie’s fingers lightly pinching at her clit and tugging it, much like she’d done moments earlier with Lena’s nipple. “I’d t-tell them about how much I need you Mistress!” Amélie bit Lena’s ear again, smirking as she pulled her hand away for a second. Her other was still wrapped around Lena’s breast, squeezing and manipulating the flesh.

“Hmm, yes.” Amélie lifted the bullet and turned it on before Lena’s eyes. She wasn’t playing fair in the slightest. The vibrating oval of plastic rested against Lena’s stomach and her muscles clenched, following the trial as Amélie moved it down towards her sex. “Sometimes…” Amélie started, slipping the bullet between Lena’s legs and resting it against her clit. It was still on the lowest power, but Lena was straining not to give in. “I think about the best way to  _ really _ punish you for your attitude. In a way that would make you change.” Amélie sounded conversational again, though she was expertly driving Lena closer and closer to a release she was trying to escape. “I think the best idea was to have others teach you a lesson.”

Amélie’s monologue was cut off by Lena crying out. Amélie had slipped the bullet down further and rested it against Lena’s entrance, reminding her just how empty her core had been, and how full her ass was.

“I’d take you to my studio, to all of the other dancers that you’ve looked down on.” Amélie continued, smirking widely. “And let each and every one of those girls take their frustrations out on you, just like I do.” With her eyes closed, trying to escape the stimulation, Lena imagined the scene. Despite it not being something she’d ever thought about, Lena felt her insides clench at the thought of it. Surely Amélie wouldn’t? But if she did… Lena knew she’d enjoy every second of it. “I’d show all of them that the high and mighty Lena Oxton was nothing but a desperate whore, longing for someone to put her in her  _ true _ place. Isn’t that what you are?”

“Yes!” Lena’s hips were rocking in time with her ragged breathing. She tried to stop them, but her bodies drive to reach it’s release was overriding Lena’s desire to win the game.

“That’s why I’m where I am. An’ that’s why Amélie is where she is.” Lena’s voice filtered out of the laptop, and Amélie let out a low growl in Lena’s ear. The hand that had been on Lena’s breast left her and travelled downwards, gripping her tail and pulling it back just a little, before thrusting it into Lena.

“I know you want to cum, Lena. Be a good girl for me, a good little pet.” Lena whimpered, feeling the plug slipping out of her again before Amélie pressed it back in forcefully. The bullet was still vibrating away against her clit, and Lena was certain she was about to go insane.

With a final cry, Lena gave in. She forgot about their game, about her interview, about everything bar the feeling of vibrations against her clit and the thrusting of the plug in her ass. Her orgasm felt like it was blinding her, and like it was going to last forever. But finally, she returned to herself, finding her body limp and heavy, resting back against Amélie.

“I win.” Amélie purred, kissing Lena’s temple. “Playtime is over. I’ll help you get clean.” Lena wanted to protest, but she’d agreed to the game.

As Amélie began to help Lena move her sluggish limbs, working through their self care ritual, Lena made a mental note. Next time she was interviewed, she’d make sure it was much shorter. Next time, she’d win their games.

Next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still taking prompts (on Tumblr only) at my blog 'Lesbxdyke' Send in as many asks as you need to, in order to give me your full prompt. I'll do any F/F pairing (Except ones featuring Symmetra as I don't feel comfortable writing her) and almost any kink!
> 
> Also, just to let y'all know, I've set myself up a [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/lesbodyke). You do **NOT** have to pay in order to prompt, I'm making that very clear right now. All of my writing is free to request and free to read!  
>  BUT! The poor starving artist thing is a truth, so if you've a few dollars to spare and you like what I write, I'd be forever grateful!

**Author's Note:**

> Wanna suggest something of your own?
> 
> I'll write anything F/F for Overwatch in terms of pairings and almost anything in terms of kink. My tumblr is 'lesbxdyke', so come and send me an IM or an ask to request.
> 
> I don't mind getting them anonymously, but PLEASE remember that I then have no way to chase you up for follow up questions, meaning that I'll have to just go with my gut on the prompt.


End file.
